


Stubble Trouble

by flippyspoon



Series: Modern and Interesting: Drabbles and Ficlets [15]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:46:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippyspoon/pseuds/flippyspoon





	Stubble Trouble

"Jimmy?"  Mrs. Hughes was looking at him with an expression of concern.  She waved a hand around her own face.  "Are you well?  You’re lookin’ a bit flushed and rashy around the mouth?  Have you run out of shaving lotion?"

At the servants’ hall table, Jimmy frowned.  But he glanced over at Thomas and saw him bite back a smirk and gaze on him with laughing eyes.  He touched his own cheek and rose an eyebrow.  Mr. Barrow stroked his chin and the cause of Jimmy’s bright pink chin and cheeks and upper lip occurred to him.  His breath hitched and he gripped his spoon harder, but smiled at Mrs. Hughes.

"Yes, that’s it," Jimmy said quickly.  "I’m sure I can borrow some off Mr. Barrow."

"Happy too," Thomas said, smiling over at Mrs. Hughes.

The first time Jimmy kissed Thomas was behind a closed pub in the dead of night as they smoked. Jimmy had been…squiffy.  Just enough for his inhibitions to be lowered a dash and not enough that he could blame beer for his actions without lying.

Thomas had been talking about something innocuous-how he needed new shoes and how there was a leak in the roof over his dresser.   Jimmy had abruptly kissed him mid-sentence, which had resulted in some initial awkwardness and knocking of teeth until Thomas’s mouth caught up with his mind.  But for the entire day following Jimmy had mentally relived the moment when his bottom lip had pressed in under Thomas’s.  Thomas’s soft wide red bottom lip…  Jimmy had fixated on it for a moment, catching it between his own lips and then his tongue had snuck out to taste it as Thomas wrapped his arms around him.  But instead Jimmy had tasted the little spot beneath Thomas’s mouth.  Because it was so late, Thomas’s beard had begun to grow in.  The feel of Thomas’s beard bristle on his lips made him shiver in the best possible way.

Then Thomas had pulled away, his mouth swollen and dark pink, which made Jimmy want to push him down to the ground and climb on top of him.  Thomas stared down at Jimmy, gawking, and then grinned.

"About time," he said brightly.

Jimmy had beamed at him, smiling with his eyes.   “Oh, shut up!”  Then he’d kissed him again.  The pub had closed.  They were already very late going back.  Which meant no one was around and they had leaned against a brick wall, lazily necking and pressing against each other until their mouths were sore.  Jimmy had kissed Thomas all over his face, but he kept coming back to the beard bristle… He’d run his lips over it softly, feeling the slight prick of each wiry little hair.  It was just so bloody satisfying.

That was the beginning.

The middle was a few evenings later as Jimmy lay naked atop Thomas Barrow’s bed, and so nervous he was about to call the whole thing off, until he felt the piney bristle of Thomas’s beard tickle and then scratch at the curve of his neck.  That sensation coupled with Thomas’s mouth laying kisses tender as rose petals was enough to make Jimmy moan, his fingers tangled in Thomas’s hair.

Rough like the wound of Thomas’s hand that slid down Jimmy’s stomach and palmed his hip a week after that.  Soft like Thomas’s right hand that Jimmy held in his while nibbling on the crook of a thumb.  He tasted the knuckle with his tongue.  Thomas murmured nonsense.  He was fixated on Jimmy’s nipple and as he raised his head, his beard met the sensitive flesh and Jimmy sighed, curling his toes.  He sat up suddenly and took Thomas’s hands, tongue kissing each palm as if comparing flavors.  Before Thomas, Jimmy had done a couple of things with girls but he had never come to appreciate the taste of skin.  Yet now he was utterly enchanted by the taste of Thomas’s body.  Thomas watched Jimmy go at his hands as if he’d consume them and interrupted him with a kiss, pushing him back on the bed.  Jimmy hummed at feeling that roughness on his cheek again and the scruff of Thomas’s chest hair pressed against him.  He turned them on their sides and reached down to pull Thomas’s heavy thigh over his own so that they lay interlocked together as they kissed lazily until Jimmy couldn’t help but mouth Thomas’s prickly jaw line.

"Hmmm…so good…" Jimmy mumbled.  He held Thomas tighter.

"You like to take your time," Thomas said.  Jimmy was kissing the bit of beard growth that crept down Thomas’s neck, distracted for a moment when he remembered there was a wonderfully masculine thigh under his hand, and he massaged the breadth of muscle there.  "That’s lovely.  Last few blokes just wanted to get down to it."

"Oh…I dunno…" Jimmy said shyly.  "You just feel so good all over."

"I’ll show ya somethin’ good," Thomas said.  He made a trail of soft kisses down the length of Jimmy’s body and then followed the first time Jimmy felt Thomas’s stubble along the insides of his thighs and he arched his back, clenching his jaw so as not to shout.  He knew Thomas was about to take him in his mouth and then he would come.

"Wait, use your hands!" Jimmy said quickly.  "And-and keep doin’ what you’re…"

Thomas cottoned on and began to stroke Jimmy slowly- even using both hands, switching between the two.  Rough. Soft.  Rough. Soft. The delicious scrape on his thighs was almost excruciating until he shuddered an orgasm and came somewhere in the vicinity of Thomas’s neck.

Between times like those and the monotonous hours of serving there were kisses stolen here and there.  This had never proved to be a problem before, but when Thomas had any time off he took care not to shave (though he felt slovenly) for the purpose of Jimmy’s pleasure.

After Mrs. Hughes commented on Jimmy’s rashy cheeks at breakfast, he sat quiet and blushing.  Well at least no one knew the truth. Though he found himself more embarrassed to be so enamored with Thomas Barrow’s beard growth than the fact of him being a man.  Which was nice enough, he discovered.  Thomas’s foot nudged his under the table and he bit his lip, hoping he wasn’t turning horribly red.

"Are you allergic to your shaving lotion, Jimmy?" Mrs. Patmore said later in the kitchen.

Jimmy blinked at her. He’d been thinking of something funny Thomas had said.  ”Eh?  Oh…yes. Yes, that’s all.  Allergic to my shaving loation.  I’ll get it sorted.”

She squinted at him and he felt like an insect under a glass.

"Mr. Barrow’s looking very dapper today, is he not?" Mrs. Patmore said.

"Oh? I-I suppose he is."  Jimmy stuck his hands in his pockets.  Meddlesome woman.

"Only I notice when he has a day off now, he don’t even bother to shave. That’s very unlike him."  She fixed him with a stare.

"Oh?"

"My father had a bit of a beard," Mrs. Patmore said. "When he shaved it off, my mother cried for three days."

"Hmm."

Mrs. Patmore strode up to him and waved her knife in his face.  ”Don’t ya dare hurt him, Jimmy Kent. I’ll gut ya like a Cornish game hen!”

"A-alright!"

Jimmy inwardly railed against Patmore but that night when Thomas’s shadowy jaw grazed his thighs again, he decided it was definitely worth the trouble.

 

 


End file.
